That's What Friends Are For
by Lauriel01
Summary: John learns that friends come in all shapes and sizes. Unbetaed, so please excuse any mistakes I missed on my lonesome.
1. That's What Friends Are For

_A/N: For Gate Geek, who is the source of John's pain for this little ficlet, as I transferred her injuries onto him. Hope you feel better soon! _

**That's What Friends Are For**

To say I felt out of sorts was pretty much an understatement. This sucked. This completely blowed. This both sucked and blowed. The part that sucked was that I had taken a nasty spill from the top of 'Jumper One. What was I doing on top of a Puddlejumper instead of being safely inside behind the controls? Why else? McKay.

"I need your help to run a diagnostic on Puddlejumper One, Colonel." Humph! I thought he meant he needed my piloting skills, or my gene. Nope.

"Well, Colonel, the access panel is on top of the 'Jumper. You don't expect_ me _to climb up there do you? I might fall off and break both my legs!" So I'm the idiot balancing on top of the damn 'Jumper switching crystals while he sits inside running diagnostics. I still don't know what he did, but the 'Jumper suddenly moved. One moment I'm trying to figure out which of the four identical crystals is 'the pink one' and the next, I'm flying sans spaceship. He might break his legs? I'll break his damn legs when I can walk again! He at least had the decency to go ghost white and launch into one of his panics. He should feel bad, it's all his fault. He called a med team down to me, as I had stupidly tried to land on my feet. Can you believe that? Do I look like a cat? Damn lucky I didn't bust both my kneecaps.

The med team wheeled me into Carson's voodoo lounge, as Rodney calls it. Don't get me wrong, I actually like the Doc. Just not when I'm the patient. Well? He fusses. I hate being fussed over, especially when it's because I can't do something for myself. I loathe being helpless. So what does he say? Three days minimum! I can't walk for three days? What am I supposed to do for three days? I know Atlantis loves me, but I can't think stuff to happen. Well, except the doors. And the lights. And I'm pretty sure I could fly the 'Jumper without actually having to use the controls if I wanted to. But this is different dammit. I'm gonna have to ask people to do stuff for me all the time.

Of course, as soon as he left me alone for a moment I tested it. I was sure he was being over-cautious. He does that. So I lifted my legs off the gurney and put my feet on the floor. It hurt, alright. Both my feet were swollen and starting to go an impressive shade of purple. Apparently I'd sprained the left ankle too. But what's a sprain and some bruising? I'd done worse than that to myself before and still been able to walk. I gently lifted my ass off the gurney and put my weight on my legs. Went down like a tonne of bricks. Didn't even have time to swear, just flat on my back with an incredibly uncool expression on my face and a wheeze 'cause I'd winded myself. I stared up at the cute blond nurse, Gigi.

I spent that night in the Infirmary. Normally when I'm in the med-lab I'm either in way too much pain really care, or I'm recovering from way too much pain and feeling pretty grateful. This time, I was in pain, but not the just-been-tortured or blew-up-my-spaceship kind. That kind got me the happy pills and a night in loopy town. Not that I really liked that either, but at least I wasn't really noticing the pain, right? This was the awful you-don't-qualify-for-the-good-drugs-and-you're-a-big-colonel-now-so-suck-it-up-and-stop-being-a-royal-pain-in-my-lilywhite-Scottish-arse type pain. I couldn't even make a jailbreak, because I couldn't walk as far as the door. Not happy. Even Gigi was starting to avoid me.

I must have been really annoying Carson, because he released me from the Infirmary the next day. What? All I did was ask for some painkillers. Okay, maybe I was a little repetitive. And I really didn't mean to snap at Dr. Biro like that. I know she was just needed more blood to do more tests on the ATA gene. It wasn't like it was the first time the Docs have needed some of my blood. I just said she was sucking the life out of me- I really didn't mean to imply she was like a Wraith. Especially since she'd worked so closely with Carson on Michael. It really just came out wrong. So, Carson kicked me out, said I could recuperate just fine in my quarters, as long as someone was with me to help out. That was cool. I had plenty of friends.

So here I am in my quarters, two days into my three day enforced lie-in, with my feet absolutely killing me, and considering myself damn lucky to get so much as a Tylenol from the Infirmary. So that is the part that sucks. The part that blows? Well, after two days my friends have all deserted my like rats off a sinking ship, and who do I have as a babysitter? You guessed it.

"Oh, stop whining, Colonel. You can't really expect me to be at your beck and call for every single sad and lonely idea that crosses your pitiful excuse for a mind. I'm a genius, not your nanny." And he went back to furiously typing on his laptop. I only wanted a glass of juice. Another one, that is. Okay, I guess I want to piss him off. I suppose misery does love company after all. But he should know that better than anyone. No-one loved to share their misery like McKay. This was more like payback than anything else.

"Why can't Teyla stay for a while if you're so busy?" I snapped.

"Teyla looked after you yesterday morning when you first got out of the Infirmary. You whined so much about not being able to walk that she'd had enough of you by lunchtime." He looked up from his laptop. "You're very unpleasant at the moment, Colonel." He added, sounding almost happy about it. Hmm, actually Teyla had been getting rather snippy around lunchtime yesterday. Since about mid-morning her eyebrow had been almost permanently raised. Humph. I thought she was more patient than that.

"What about Elizabeth?" Elizabeth had come in after lunch and spent yesterday afternoon with me. She'd had to leave after tea, though, because she had to get some work done. I could understand that. She was a busy woman. Atlantis didn't run itself. "She said she'd come back after she caught up with her work." And yeah, that might have come out sounding cranky, but God help me, if I had to spend too much more time with Rodney, I was going to commit justifiable homicide.

"Yeah? Well, her work must be running the 1500m because last time I saw her, she was heading away from this room at high speed, looking relieved to be off the hook." He sighed and shut his laptop. "Okay, Colonel. How about chess?"

"Jesus, Rodney! No more chess, already. What about Ronon?" This was ridiculous. I wasn't being that difficult! Was I? Actually, now that I think about it, I was pretty rough on Ronon. Sending him back to the mess hall three times because I didn't like the food was perhaps a bit out of line. And I had been pretty frustrated over the last two days, which usually makes me pretty snarky...

"Puh-leese! He lasted less than two hours and then headed off to the gym. From the steady stream of limping and bruised marines coming from that direction he's still trying to fight the urge to throttle you." He put the chess set down, and picked up the deck of cards. "Go fish?" He asked chirpily.

"Lorne?" I asked, a little desperately. He just waggled the cards at me. Yeah. Justifiable homicide. My holster was hanging over the back of the chair. I could crawl that far. I was sure of it. He put the cards down again and rolled his eyes.

"Look John." _That _got my attention. He never called me by my first name. "You've managed to get everyone well and truly pissed. You've been even worse than me when I'm sick, and that's saying something. I know I can be difficult occasionally." Occasionally? Crap. If even McKay thought I was worse than he was, I'd been a huge pain in the ass. I leaned back on my bed and sighed.

"So why are you still here?" I asked. I know we had to put up with each other on missions, and when we were working on Atlantis, and we really tried to get along with each other at those times. And the times we actually hung out together, we spent all the time arguing and bitching at each other. Like on the weekly team-bonding nights, Teyla and Ronon always sat and talked quietly to each other like grown-ups, while McKay and I spent all night arguing like five year olds. I mean really, who else has a three hour argument over a flux capacitor? I couldn't remember the last time we actually had a rational discussion without snarking and bitching at each other. He gave me one of his crooked grins, and turned his laptop around so we could watch a movie.

"Because I'm used to you being a pain in the arse, Colonel." He said. And he put on Back to the Future.

So the part that both sucked and blowed? I just realised that _Rodney McKay_ was my best friend. And don't tell him, but I really enjoyed arguing about the movie.

**Disclaimer:** SGA and all it's characters belong to MGM andSciFi. It's their playground, I'm just playing in it.


	2. Colonels On Crutches

A/N: This is a follow up from That's What Friends Are For, because GateGeek requested Shep on crutches. So once again, Sheppy gets to feel her pain.

Colonels on Crutches

If you asked me a few years ago what hell was, I would have said it was somewhere in the Middle East; with the blazing heat shimmering off the white sands and blinding you while bullets ping of the side of your 'Hawk and you choke on the smoke coming from what's left of your tail rotor. Now I would tell you differently. Now hell is defined as three days of not being able to walk, with McKay applying what he undoubtedly thinks of as a bedside manner. I couldn't even shower. I had to take a sponge bath. Now that might have been fun if that cute nurse Gigi had helped out, but no such luck. She came in the morning for my daily check-up, brought me the soap and water and helped me get ready, then left me to it. Sigh. Nowhere near as much fun but- officer and gentlemen and rah rah rah. Oh God, and McKay had to help me get to the jakes! Now when do you think I'll be able to live that one down? When Carson called me to tell me my incarceration was at an end I nearly ascended I was that stoked! Of course, the Doc didn't tell me what lay in store for me then, did he? No, he waited until I got wheeled into the infirmary and he had checked out my feet and ankle. Then told me I had stay of my ankle for four to six weeks, and come in every week for some physio. Then he handed me the twin twigs of torture, a.k.a. crutches.

"Here you go, son." He said as he handed them over to me. I looked at them suspiciously. Well, how hard could it be? I grabbed the crutches and cautiously heaved myself up. Hey! No problem. It was easier than I thought it would be. That was until I messed up the rhythm, stepped on my sprained ankle and went down like a tonne of bricks. Yeah. That hurt! Carson heaved me up and put me back on the infirmary bed. My first thought was 'Ow." My second thought was that the Doc was stronger than he looked. My third thought was that the bastard was laughing at me.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Yeah, peachy. The Doc's concern would have been more believable if he wasn't biting back a smile. He patted my shoulder, handed me back my crutches, and said "Stop pouting, you'll be fine, son." Humph. I looked at him and he gave me his I'm-amused-right-now-but-I'm-fast-running-out-of-patience look. I so did not pout. Air Force Colonels definitely do _not_ pout. Much.

"Oh stop being such a baby, Colonel" Caldwell's voice intruded. I looked up, about to take offence to that, and was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of Elizabeth and Rodney accompanying Colonel Caldwell, who was limping into the Infirmary- on crutches. Well shoot me in the ass and call me a bullseye!

"What happened to you?" I asked him, stunned out of my funk and into civility.

"There was a slight amount of turbulence while we were doing some tests on the FTL drive," Rodney said, before Caldwell could answer. Did the man _ever_ let anyone answer a question? "Fortunately no-one was seriously injured."

"Yes, thank you Dr." Caldwell responded sarcastically. Rodney looked unperturbed. "I just twisted it a little. The doctors on the Daedalus said to keep off it for a few days, but to have Dr. Beckett here give me some cold compresses while I'm here. I see you're up and about?" Translation: Oh, you're alive. I can't have your job yet. I gave him my most irritating smirk, and then shifted my gaze to Rodney.

"Hey, McKay" I know how much that rhyming greeting drives him nuts. "You're two for two. What'd you do this time?" I was expecting him to snark back and declare his innocence, instead he just went bright pink from embarrassment, and didn't answer.

"I don't hold Dr. McKay responsible, Colonel." Caldwell said, in that condescending manner he has. So what was Rodney embarrassed about, then? I was about to ask, but was interrupted by the Doc bustling in and getting Caldwell settled on a bed, before pushing the rest of us out.

By the end of the day, I'd fallen down twice more and my sprained ankle throbbed. My right foot hurt from supporting my weight, even though the bruising was going down, and my armpits hurt like blazes from the crutches. Thunking down on my bed, I was just thankful the day was over. Tomorrow had to be better?

oOo

I woke up the next morning, hobbled over to the bathroom and had another sponge bath. God I'd kill for a real shower! The first thing I'm going to do when I can stand up properly is have a hot shower. And then go for a run. I miss my morning run, and not being able to run out some frustration was not doing anything for my disposition. I felt thoroughly out of sorts. I got dressed and thought the door open, then hobbled to Elizabeth's office for a debriefing; mainly to catch up on what I'd missed over the last three days.

Not much apparently, which was a relief. The way my luck was running, something had to go wrong. Lorne was capable of taking my place for a few weeks, but it was Murphy's Law, wasn't it? Well, so far so good, I suppose. Of course, who could forget the McKay factor? I was still trying hard not to blame him for my current predicament; after all, he was the one that made me get on top of the 'Jumper in the first place. Speak of the devil; I bumped into him on the way out of Elizabeth's office. He was Captain Oblivious, as usual, and was paying more attention to the tablet in his hand than the wobbly Colonel next to him.

"Oh, umm. Sorry, Colonel." There he went again. Being friendly. This state of friendliness had been continuing for the last four days, and I was getting suspicious. It just wasn't.. _normal_. His embarrassment from the topic yesterday, combined with his niceness over the last few days… oh, this was so his fault. I eyeballed him as I stepped through the doorway and headed across the walkway to the stairs.

"You know, McKay, you still haven't told me what happened with the 'Jumper." I glared at him. (Anyone who says it's a pout is lying, got it?)

"Oh, and now you're clumsiness is all my fault?" He tried to make it sound snarky, but there was definitely guilt there. Oh, he was so dead when I found out what he was hiding from me. And I would find out.

"I have had three days of pain, lying around being _helpless,_" I tried not to let it show how much that word bothered me, but I don't think it worked. "and now I'm limping around on these damn things!" I waved a crutch under his nose, making him pull back sharply. "What did you do, McKay?"

"Oh, the big, brave Colonel can't handle a bit of adversity?" Nice deflection, there. "Chin up, Colonel!" McKay said in his most patronising tone, and slapped me on the shoulder. Of course, that was just when I was shifting my weight to go down the stairs. I had the damn crutches on the step below me, and I had just moved my weight onto them so I could step down when the hand of doom (read McKay) struck again. I windmilled in a blur of arms, legs and crutches, and time seemed to slow for an agonising moment. Then down I went. Roof, floor, roof, floor, roof, floor.. you get the idea. Rating on the cool-o-meter? Zero, zip, nada. And if the pain and humiliation weren't enough to really make my day, who was coming up the stairs at the same time? Colonel I-hate-you-and-I-want-your-job Caldwell. Who naturally, being on crutches as well, had absolutely no hope of getting out of my way.

So there we were, lying on the floor in a very undignified tangled heap; two Colonels and four crutches, surrounded by one horrified scientist, and several stunned marines. Silence reigned.

Shoot me now.

oOo

Well, here I am in the infirmary. Again. I really am going to have to shoot someone. Or blow something up. I'm easy. I offered to shoot Rodney in the leg again- he pointed out that the personal shield was still depleted, and didn't seem to find it amusing when I told him I already knew that. I glanced over at the bed next to me. Caldwell glared back; well, he tried to glare. It was a bit hard to do effectively with a black eye. In all honesty, I couldn't feel too smug about that, since I had a matching one. I also had a cracked rib, and the Colonel had a sprained wrist. Fortunately neither of us aggravated our ankles any further. He gave me a silent snarl and turned away. Oh yeah, this was going to be a pleasant little rest, wasn't it?

Elizabeth had been to visit us, not long after Carson and his bevy of nurses had gotten us settled and mercifully given us some painkillers. After noticing the chilly temperature caused by myself and Colonel Caldwell, she did what any good diplomat would do. Tactical retreat. Ah, our brave and fearless leader. Not so much.

Shortly after, Rodney, Ronon and Teyla came in to see us. I think Rodney was trying to hide behind Ronon.

"Hi Teyla, Ronon" I said brightly. "Rodney." I dragged his name out.

"Colonel Caldwell, Colonel Sheppard. How are you feeling?" I didn't wait for Caldwell to answer, but jumped right in there.

"Oh fine. Nice of you to ask, considering this is once again all your fault." I actually meant when he knocked me down the stairs into Caldwell, and I know he didn't mean it. Guilty minds, though…

"Why do you keep implying it's my fault? I didn't do anything! I only reached down to grab a powerbar out.." His eyes widened and he clamped both hands over his mouth. He stared at me in horror and I felt that cold, sinking feeling in my stomach, followed by the slow burn of igniting anger.

"Are you saying that you tipped me off the 'Jumper because you reached for a powerbar while running the diagnostics?" I tried for calm. Honest. I really did.

"Umm.. err. Maybe?" he squeaked. If I wasn't so angry I would have found it funny. Ronon and Teyla obviously thought it rather amusing, since they were trying their hardest not to laugh. Caldwell wasn't even trying.

"McKay.." I growled.

"Yes, well. Get better soon. I have, umm, important things to do. Life saving things. Umm.." He started to back away towards the door.

"McKay?" I said sweetly.

"Err, what?" He looked at me suspiciously.

"Run." The others burst out laughing, although Ronon put a hand on my shoulder, just in case.

Rodney bolted.

**Disclaimer:** The copyright for Stargate Atlantis belongs to MGM studios and SciFi channel. It's their playground- I'm just playing in it.


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